


The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy

by Tiptapricot



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Batfamily, Fluff, Gen, Genderfluid Tim Drake, Jason Todd is Robin, Queer Themes, Swearing, Tim Drake-centric, batfam, batgirl!Tim, mentions of parental neglect w the drake parents, self discovery, suuuuper minimal angst, tim is a baby boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiptapricot/pseuds/Tiptapricot
Summary: When Batgirl doesn't reappear on the streets after Barbara Gordon is shot, Tim goes searching for answers.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 158
Kudos: 413





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic is based on the Batgirl!Tim AU and art created by my friend Tooth! They're super talented and sweet so please check out their tumblr @aloofwindbag. Enjoy!

The report was on the news that morning. After the weather, and something about a new bowling alley opening on the East side, the anchor moved on to a breaking news segment. Tim wasn’t totally paying attention, the TV was turned down to background noise while he ate breakfast, something to fill the space while his parents were away. Even so, his ears perked up at a familiar name.

_“Barbara Gordon, the police commissioner’s daughter, was shot in her apartment last night.”_

He froze, a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. He strained his ears to make out the rest of the report. This couldn’t… he couldn’t have heard that right. 

The anchor continued, explaining what had been released to the public (barely anything), and finished with, _“We’ll be following this story as it develops, so stay tuned,”_ before the feed switched to a commercial. Tim was already at the door, a daypack slung over his shoulder and a note to the sitter taped to the fridge.

***

As it turned out, Barbara wasn’t as easy to find as Tim had expected. It was largely because none of the hospitals would let him past the help desk without a guardian present, but there was also a frustrating lack of news updates. He was carrying out an investigation practically blind, and it was frustrating.

The sitter caught up to him when he stopped to buy a bag of chips a few blocks from Gotham General. She manhandled him into her car, bordering on frantic as she scolded him for going out without supervision. Tim tuned out most of it for the drive home, rolling his eyes as she brought up ‘safety concerns’ again. He’d heard the same speech a thousand times.

“’M sorry,” he mumbled as they pulled into the driveway. He wasn’t, not really. The apology was more of a courtesy and to stop the woman from prying than anything else. He was plenty capable of taking care of himself without some nutty college student looking over his shoulder.

The sitter let out a long sigh and gave him a strained smile. “Just don’t do it again, Mr. Drake.” She said. Tim nodded and got out of the backseat without another word.

They spent the rest of the day inside. The sitter ordered food and put on a movie like she always did, but Tim wasn’t interested. He couldn’t stop thinking about Barbara.

She had to be fine, right? She was Batgirl, she was super strong and cool and awesome and she’d been hurt plenty of times, but she’d always come back sooner or later. Maybe Tim just had to be patient. He could wait. He _could._

He spent the night lying awake with a police scanner propped up next to his pillow, listening intently for any reports of a girl in a cape.

There were none.

***

A week passed and Batgirl still wasn’t back on the streets, then two, then three. Even after Barbara was released from the hospital (discreetly, with almost no news coverage) there was nothing. At the month and a half mark, Tim had had enough. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and he was going to do it now.

His parents had gone on another spur of the moment business trip and they’d hired a different sitter than usual. She didn’t know Tim like the last one had, didn’t guard his door or lock his windows. She just tucked him in, turned out the lights, and half an hour later Tim heard her car pull out of the driveway. No one to catch him leaving, it was the perfect time to sneak out.

He gathered a few things first. His camera, a notepad and pencil, a bottle of water, a thick hoodie, and a wad of cash from the drawer in his mom’s room. He wasn’t supposed to know the stash was there, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either.

Barbara lived over in Old Gotham, in the clocktower near Wayne Enterprises. It was on the opposite side of town from Tim’s house, but if he rode his bike a few miles down the road and across the bridge he could catch a cab and take that the rest of the way. If the driver let him on, that was. Most Gotham cabbies didn’t care how old he was, as long as he paid them, but there were always those odd few that would mistake him for a runaway and try to take him to social services. As if. He was only two months shy of eight and a half now, not some baby. If he ever wanted to run away he’d be _much_ more discreet about it.

It was a cool evening when he stepped outside, the streets and concrete damp with rain and the swelling clouds overhead promising more. Tim coasted down the driveway on his bike, water pattering against his sneakers, and out the gate to the main road. He stayed on the hard shoulder, flicking his handlebar light on when the first few cars came into view.

It wasn’t the first time he’d made the trip to Gotham. He’d been sneaking out a few times every week to go bat-watching ever since he was old enough to work a camera.

He’d never told his parents that though, and he didn’t know if he ever would.

There was a box of faded Polaroids and undeveloped film stuffed under his bed, full of blurry photos of capes and masks streaking across rooftops. Some of them were clearer, shots he’d gotten by climbing up fire escapes or ducking behind dumpsters to observe a fight, but each one was special to him.

The bats had shaped his childhood. They were guardians and mysteries wrapped in Kevlar suits, something he could look forward to when the house was boring and empty. He’d been following them for _years,_ it was how he’d worked out their identities, and it was precisely why the mystery surrounding Barbara worried him so much.

It started raining as Tim turned onto the bridge, a drizzle that quickly turned into a downpour. He shivered and flipped his hood up, leaning closer to the handlebars.

About a year ago, Robin had gone missing too. A week or so after the disappearance, the news had reported that Jason—Robin—had been in a nasty car crash. Nothing else, no specifics, just that he was in critical condition at one of Gotham’s hospitals. He was eventually released, but Robin hadn’t appeared again for almost seven months after the fact.

The whole situation was eerily similar to the current one. That should’ve made Tim feel better, in theory, since Robin had come back in the end, but it didn’t. Something felt off this time, but he couldn’t place what. Maybe it was because Barbara had been released much sooner than Jason, yet still wasn’t back on the streets, or maybe because he was just paranoid this time around, he didn’t know. Either way, whenever he thought about it he felt… weird.

He couldn’t quite explain the feeling, a worry that twisted in his gut and made him feel queasy and sad. Batgirl was his hero, or one of them at least. She was gorgeous and powerful and awesome and he looked up to her. He didn’t know what he’d do if she never turned up again.

He had to get to the bottom of what was going on. If not him, then who?

Tim rode off the bridge and onto a sidewalk, weaving around a few pedestrians before swerving into an alley. He got off, unclipped his helmet, and shoved his bike in the small gap between one of the dumpsters and the wall. It was the best hiding spot he’d been able to find over the years, and it had only taken three stolen bikes to find.

He managed to flag down a cab after only a few minutes, smiling to himself when the driver grunted nothing more than a brief “Where to?” as he slid into the backseat.

“Gotham Clocktower please,” he replied.

“‘Aight kid.” The driver mumbled.

Tim stared out the window as they drove, watching raindrops slip down the glass. Gotham was kind of pretty at night, when the buildings blended with the sky and didn’t feel as huge and ominous. Sometimes, if he could make them out, he would read the words on the street signs under his breath. He wasn’t doing that now, of course, this driver didn’t seem like the type to appreciate that. Instead, he scanned the rooftops, hoping to catch a flash of cape or boots between the gargoyles. He knew he probably wouldn’t, the Bats were rarely ever out this early, but it was worth a shot.

When they pulled up to the clocktower it was pouring even harder. Tim handed a wad of cash to the driver and thanked him before getting out, mentally berating himself for forgetting an umbrella. The sooner he could get inside, the better. 

Tim looked up at the clock face towering above him. He was nervous, but excited too. He was finally going to get his answers, _and_ get to talk to one of the Bats for the first time. He could do this. _He could do this._ Squaring his shoulders, Tim walked towards the entrance with determination, and stepped through the double doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, the clocktower in this is like an apartment complex that doubles as a clock? Idk man but that's how I wrote it bc that makes sense to me.


	2. Chapter 2

Moving, as much as Dick tried to make it sound fun, sucked. Barbara hadn’t liked moving into her apartment in the tower the first time, and while she wasn’t repeating _everything,_ bringing in new tech for Oracle was just as tedious. 

The computers and security routers were bulky and hard to move, and she’d had to buy a brand new desk to work at. It wasn’t even assembled yet, there was no space to put it. She was in the middle of rearranging her living room now, and it was exhausting.

She could probably call someone for help if she needed to, but it was late and she wanted some time alone. Dick and Jason had already helped her enough that week, she didn’t need more.

She… she didn’t really know what she needed, if she was being honest. She wasn’t in the same mental ditch she’d been in for the last month, not with Oracle on the horizon now, but she was still adjusting. A lot was different, not necessarily harder, though some of it was, just weird and confusing to navigate. But she was still the same person, with the same skills, and Oracle promised to be a job that would allow her to help a _lot_ of people. That was her focus at the moment, a goal she could push towards to keep up the momentum of her recovery.

Stay positive, acknowledge what sucks, work through it. Barbara knew how it worked.

It was gonna be a long night, but she could take a moment to rest, right? Her arms burned from pushing furniture around, and it almost reminded her of her old workouts. She missed that, maybe she should pick a new routine, help stuff feel more familiar. She’d like that, and according to her doctors, self care was a vital piece of the healing process. She wasn’t sure how vital, but it couldn’t hurt.

She had just settled on the couch when there was a knock at the door. Barbara tensed momentarily, an (annoying) knee jerk reaction she’d been experiencing ever since the incident, before hoisting herself into her wheelchair and rolling over to the door.

“Who is it?” She asked. She wasn’t expecting company tonight.

A young voice answered almost immediately. “Timothy Drake, ma’am! I want to talk to you!”

Barbara paused with her hand over the doorknob. Timothy Drake as in the _Drake_ Drakes? What on earth was their kid doing here?

She rolled out of the way and opened the door, coming face to face with a small boy that couldn’t have been older than ten. He had round cheeks, pudgy fingers, and dark hair, and when he smiled she could see a small gap in his front teeth. He was also completely drenched, and dripping all over the hall floor.

“Woah! We can talk later, let’s get you dried off.” Barbara said, gesturing for him to come inside. Had he been outside in the storm? That couldn’t be good for a child. She started making a beeline for the bathroom, stopping when she noticed he hadn’t followed.

Barbara turned to see him frozen in the doorway, staring at her with wide eyes. He glanced down at her wheelchair, then up to her face, and muttered a soft _Oh._

***

“Thanks again for the cocoa Miss Batgirl.” Tim said, flashing her another bright grin. Barbara smiled back, taking a sip of tea as she examined the boy sitting across from her on the couch.

He seemed to have settled in easily enough. He was wrapped snugly in one of her bathrobes, hair and face scrubbed dry, looking around her apartment in awe as he sipped from his mug. She still wasn’t sure what to do with him. She’d thrown his clothes in the dryer, so he’d be there for a bit. He had obviously come for a reason, to talk to her, he’d said, but he hadn’t uttered more than a few thank you’s since his arrival. 

Well, thank you’s and _Miss Batgirl._ She swore, when he’d first called her that on the way to the bathroom it had startled her so much she’d almost dropped the tea kettle. She still hadn’t brought it up, but it was probably a good place to start if she wanted answers.

“So,” Barbara leaned forward and set her mug on the coffee table, “how did you figure it out?”

Tim took a large gulp of cocoa and wiped his mouth before answering. “It’s pretty simple, actually. I’ve been following you guys for a while, taking photos and watching you fight and stuff! I worked out Dick Grayson was the first Robin awhile back when I watched some old videos, it was a little complicated, but… well after that the rest was just deduction.” He looked very proud of himself as he said it.

“You’re very smart for your age.” Barbara said, and Tim beamed. “Have you talked to your parents or anyone else about this?”

Tim shook his head. “Why would I? It’s a big secret, and my parents probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

“Why not?” Barbara asked.

Tim’s face fell a little. “Because… well, I dunno. They aren’t around a lot, and they’re always running around town on business when they are. They probably wouldn’t care even if I wanted to tell them.”

Barbara softened a little at that. Tim seemed like a very sweet kid. “Well then, if you know so much about us, what made you come here? It’s a heck of a night to make a visit.” She said.

Tim perked up a little at that, taking a sobering sip of cocoa before clearing his throat. “Well,” he began, “I heard what happened to you, and I wanted to know what _happened_ happened, you know? I didn’t really realize, um… can you walk?” He asked.

Barbara snorted. He was a very direct kid, she’d give him that. “No, not anymore. I can’t move anything from the waist down, and the doctors say it’s permanent. I’m adjusting.”

“Oh, ok…” Tim’s gaze dropped to his lap, fingers tapping nervously on the side of his mug. “Does that mean you aren’t gonna be Batgirl anymore?” He asked, still avoiding eye contact.

“Well, yes.” Barbara said, leaning back in her chair. “But I’m still going to help people.”

“Really?” Tim looked up excitedly.

Barbara smiled. “Yep. I’m calling myself Oracle now. I’m going to be working remotely from here, organizing and helping other heroes in the field, collecting data, that sort of thing.”

“That’s so cool!” Tim said, jumping to his feet. The bathrobe she’d given him was way too big, and the hem dragged and twisted under him as his feet sunk into the couch cushions. He wobbled, but caught himself before completely falling over, his cocoa sloshing dangerously before he settled back down. “Um, right, but who’s gonna be Batgirl then?” he asked.

“No one, at least for now.” Barbara picked up her tea and took a sip. “There’s no one to take up the role.”

“But Gotham needs Batgirl! She’s… she’s awesome!”

“That’s very nice of you to say, but there’s not much I can do about it.” Barbara said.

Tim made a face, looking down once more. There were a few moments of silence before he spoke again, still staring intently into his mug.

“I could do it.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I could do it.” He repeated, fixing her with a fiercely determined look. “I could be Batgirl.”

“Tim, hun--” Barbara began, but he cut her off.

“I could! It works. I know a lot about you guys and I’ve been practicing throwing a batarang ever since I found one last fall! You could even train me and stuff and then I could fight all good and cool like you and Batman.”

“That’s not the issue, Tim.” Barbara smiled sympathetically. “I understand you want to help, that’s very sweet, and I appreciate your enthusiasm, but… there’s no way Bat-- _Bruce_ would let you.”

“Why not?” Tim’s eyebrows knitted in frustration.

Barbara sighed, setting down her tea to roll over to him. She took his hands in hers, squeezing a little. “You have wonderful intentions, Tim, but you’re very young.” He opened his mouth to protest but she continued. “It’s dangerous out there, and neither me nor Bruce would ever want to put you in danger.” She smirked and ruffled his hair, making him laugh. “We wouldn’t want to waste such a smart little noggin now, would we?”

Tim batted at her hands, his smile falling when he pulled back. “Are… are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah hun, I am. I can still teach you a few moves sometime, if you want. It never hurts to know how to throw a good punch when you live in Gotham.” 

He brightened considerably at that. “Okay.” He said.

“Good.” She gave his shoulder a small squeeze. “Now let’s get you home, okay? It’s late.”

***

Barbara drove Tim home that night. They picked up his bike on the way there, and she gave him a slip of paper with her number on it before waving goodbye. He stood on the doorstep long after she left, staring after her taillights. It took awhile for his brain to really process everything that had just happened, but when it did, he looked down at the paper clutched tight in his hands, smiled, and rushed inside. He had training to start.

Couldn’t be Batgirl his _ass._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be updating with the last few chapters soonish, so stay tuned! Tysm for reading and to Tooth for being such a wonderful friend. Have a great day and find on tumblr under the same username if you want more dumb shit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple things for this chapter, there‘s descriptions of some mild injuries and a little more talk about Tim’s issues with his parents. He gets to cuss again too, which is a very important part of the version of Tim this is based on. I hope you guys enjoy!

Barbara called Tim a few days after their talk, just to check in and make sure he was doing alright. He said he was fine, because he _was,_ just a bit sniffly, but she came over anyway. Tim might’ve sneezed hard enough to drop the phone at one point, but he still thought she was overreacting.

He gave his sitter the day off and spent the rest of it hanging out with Barbara. She brought soup, and insisted he stayed under a blanket the whole time, and they talked. Neither of them went into hero stuff, (Tim still didn’t know the best way to convince her that he should be Batgirl, and didn’t want to bring it up until he did), but it was still nice. Barbara told him about college, and he talked about his experiences with homeschooling, especially when he had to do so much of the work on his own, and she ended up staying for dinner.

It was a calm night, casual and warm, and Barbara left with the promise to come back again soon. Soon turned out to be the next day, and before Tim knew it, she was visiting him at least four times a week. He would wake up around noon, make brunch, do a little schoolwork, and then wait by the window for her car to pull up. They’d spend a few hours practicing defenses and a few hours talking, and she’d leave sometime in the late evening. It was… nice.

The official reason for Barbara’s visits was English tutoring, but that was just to ‘throw people off their trail,’ as Tim liked to put it. Barbara always laughed when he said it like that, like they were planning some big operation, and it made him smile. He liked to see her laugh, he liked to see her happy. 

She was the only real constant in his life, someone he could lean on, and he’d never really had anything like that before. There were his sitters, he guessed, but even they changed every couple of months, depending on how long they could put up with him sneaking out. Barbara, on the other hand, was going to stay. Tim was sure of that.

And… he wasn’t dumb, he _knew_ his parents were gone a little too often to be normal, that they were supposed to be there for him more than they were, but he didn’t hold it against them. They were busy people, and he had school to do and a childhood to have. They couldn’t exactly drag him off to the other side of the world at the drop of a hat. Though maybe somewhere deep down he wished they would anyway. He missed them when they were away, he always did.

He never had to miss Barbara though. She was always just a phone call away whenever he needed her. She’d even given him a special emergency number he could use to reach her when she was doing Oracle stuff, just in case. That meant a _lot_ to Tim. Oracle was a big thing for Barbara, and she took it very seriously. For her to give him that number… it meant she trusted him, and Tim would make sure he never betrayed that trust. He wanted to make her proud, he wanted to support her like she supported him, he—woah.

It hit Tim suddenly one day that he’d only looked up to Barbara as a hero before, but now he looked up to her as a _person._ Trippy. She wasn’t just his idea of Batgirl anymore, not just cool moves and a cooler outfit. She was smart, she was funny, she was a badass, and she gave the _best_ hugs. There was also something else about her, something Tim didn’t quite understand. 

He couldn’t really explain it, but sometimes he’d look at her, when her hair was down or she was wearing a nice outfit, and he… he didn’t know, he’d have this urge, this want, to be like her, in a way. He’d had the same feeling a few times before, while watching TV or talking to people at galas, but it didn’t even happen all the time! Sometimes there was no tug or weird twist in his stomach at all. It was confusing.

He brought it up to Barbara one day, because if anyone could help him figure this out it would be her. She assured him there was nothing wrong and they talked about it for a bit. She told him about some of her friends that experienced the same kinds of things, offered to help him experiment, and asked what he might want to try. They talked about pronouns, presentation, the whole shebang, and Tim went to bed that night with his mind buzzing.

The next time she visited, Barbara brought some of her old clothes, a brand new pack of hair barrettes, and a bottle of shiny purple nail polish. Instead of doing any combat practice that day, they just sat in the backyard and tried different things out. They went slow, Barbara always checking in to make sure he was comfortable, and it felt… it felt _good._

By the end of the day Tim still didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but he ended up keeping a few of the skirts she’d brought, and they agreed he’d let her know if he ever wanted to try out different pronouns. 

Everything still felt really new, but he wasn’t worried. Barbara would be there if he needed anything else, and he didn’t feel the need to rush things anyway. He could just be Tim for now, do what he wanted and what made him happy, and figure out what that meant along the way.

They went back to combat practice the next week, Tim sporting painted nails and a wider smile than ever before.

He trained when Barbara wasn’t around too. His yard was the perfect place to practice all sorts of things. He could climb the garden wall and pretend it was a roof’s edge, working on his balance by walking across it until he fell off into one of the hedges or flower patches on either side. He’d get a little banged up each time, especially if he slipped off into a pricker bush, but he was getting better each day.

The trees provided good climbing practice too, and if he went high enough he could even jump between them. _That_ had taken a few tries to get, and a lot of scrapes and bruises.

There was one tree that seemed to hate him though, a big one on the edge of the estate. It’s bark was rough and crumbly, he struggled to reach even the lowest branches, and he’d already fallen off it seven times in his attempts to climb it.

He was making another attempt now, stretching towards a divet further up the trunk that looked like a good handhold. Just before he could get a hold of it, though, the branch beneath him broke with a loud crack and sent him tumbling onto the lawn.

Dammit. Make that eight.

Tim groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up. His tailbone and thigh ached from hitting the ground and his arm stung like hell. He sucked in a sharp breath and craned his neck to get a good look at it, cringing at the long red scrape running up the side of his forearm. Shit, he was definitely going to have to wash that, and hope his parents didn’t see the new bandage.

They’d gotten back from their most recent trip about a week ago, and had a whole _month_ before their next one. It was a rare pocket of rest in their otherwise hectic schedules, and Tim was going to try and spend as much of it with them as possible. Between his training sessions of course. Well… Barbara’s classes weren’t _officially_ training sessions, but he counted them anyway. 

She still said he couldn’t be Batgirl (believe him, he’d asked), and that she was just teaching him practical skills to keep him safe on the streets, but he had hope. Don’t get him wrong, he planned on being Batgirl one way or another, but it would be easier and _much_ more fun with Barbara’s help. Probably less ‘completely ignoring authority figures’ involved, not that he was opposed to that.

Barbara _had_ been branching out a bit with her lessons recently, so maybe she was caving after all. She’d mentioned having him take gymnastics classes once, and they were supposed to start doing some computer work soon. If that didn’t sound like hero training, Tim didn’t know what did. They hadn’t gotten around to doing anything new yet, since she’d been busier than usual with Oracle business the last couple of days, but Tim was excited to see what she had in store for their next visit.

Right now, though, he had to deal with his arm. Tim pushed himself off the lawn and started back towards the house, rubbing the tender skin of the scrape absentmindedly.

“Hey bud!” His dad waved from the couch as he came through the back door. “What have you been up to today?”

Tim shrugged, hiding his arm behind his back. “Not much,” he lied. He’d done a lot, actually. He’d climbed five (nearly six) trees and almost made the jump across a big ditch near the highway. The operative word being _almost,_ but he’d already changed out of his mud soaked clothes, and the pants he was wearing now hid the bruises on his shins. Not that Mr. Golf-Club-Vice-President needed to know any of that.

His dad hummed, turning to click on the TV. “We should really get you a hobby.” He said, flipping to the sports channel.

The conversation was effectively over after that, Tim knew from experience, so he took it as his queue to slip down the hall. He locked the bathroom door behind him, turned on the sink, and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the cupboard. It always hurt to disinfect stuff, but it was better than letting it get all gross and swell-y. Besides, heroes had to be tough, a little scrape was nothing compared to getting bit by Killer Croc or hit by Harley’s hammer. Didn’t make it any more fun though.

Tim wet a cotton ball and dabbed lightly at his arm, hissing at the contact. He continued until the scrape didn’t look as gross, and then switched to the rubbing alcohol. He was out of the bathroom in under ten minutes, his arm wrapped snug in gauze and his parents none the wiser. Afterwards he went up to his room and spent the rest of the time before dinner lying on his bed, daydreaming about bat ears and a yellow cape. 

Someday he’d get there. 

_Someday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! I’m gonna be starting the next one tonight, and I have a good idea of where to go with it. I hope you’re all staying healthy and happy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little more angsty than intended but what are you gonna do? More swearing, and it looks like I'm continuing my trend of having one chapter with almost no dialogue and one chapter of almost only dialogue, so that's fun. Sorry this took a lil longer to get out than expected, creative juices have been running a bit low recently. That being said, hope you enjoy!

_“Ugh, this is_ ** _stupid,”_** Jason grunted, and Barbara watched through the security feed as he slammed one of Riddler’s henchmen against the bank counter.

Bruce was out of town for the month on League business, and as a result mission control had fallen to Barbara. Dick would be visiting to help in a couple days, but for now it was just her and Jason. 

They’d been swamped with robberies and muggings day in and day out for the past week and a half, the kinds of smaller crimes crooks thought they could get away with when the big bad Bat wasn't there to stop them. It was exhausting. Barbara wished she could take a day or two off to visit with Tim or some of her friends, but right now she had to stay focused on keeping Gotham (and one very grumpy teenager) out of trouble. 

“Is the fight not interesting enough for you?” Barbara asked, smiling over the edge of her coffee mug.

Jason stopped momentarily to glare at the camera she was watching through before he ducked to kick the legs out from under another goon. _“No, I just don’t think I need you in my ear the whole time.”_

“Not my call dude.”

_“Right,”_ he dodged a punch, twisting the assailent’s arm behind her back and shoving her to the floor, _“thanks for the reminder that_ **_B’s_ ** _the one who thinks I can’t take care of myself, I feel_ **_much_ ** _better now.”_

“You know what I mean,” Barbara said. “On your right.”

Jason ducked the blow aimed for his head and landed a hard uppercut to the thug’s jaw. _“Thanks, but I mean, how hard is it to let me do my own thing for once? I’ve been his partner for almost five years, that warrants a little trust, right?”_

“He’s a complicated guy, Robin.”

Jason snorted. _“Yeah, about as complicated as a deep dish pizza, maybe, and that’s saying something.”_ He paused to spring off the shoulders of one of the goons, using the momentum of his fall to flip the man headfirst into another henchman. _“He’s a fucked up, overprotective douchebag who thinks I can’t handle myself without help, I get it.”_

“That’s not true and you know it,” Barbara said, “and where is this coming from anyway? I thought you guys were on good terms.”

_“Yeah, well… things change.”_

“I’m serious, Robin, I haven’t heard you _this_ salty since you got banned from that Denny’s on 5th a few months ago. Did you guys get into a fight before he left?”

_“That’s not—! Ughh!”_ Jason disappeared behind a smokescreen as another group of henchmen approached. _“We… there might’ve been a_ **_bit_ ** _of an argument,”_ he bit out between grunts, _“but just a small one, and that’s besides the point anyway.”_

“Uh huh.” Barbara took a long sip of coffee. 

_“Hey, it’s not my fault he’s got the emotional capacity of rock. I just wanted to try patrolling solo for once and he freaked out. Didn’t know expressing my need for independence would get his bat-panties in such a twist.”_

“Mmhmm, and I’m guessing you were the picture of innocence and calm throughout this whole argument?”

_“You know me so well, O.”_ Jason said, mockingly sweet.

Barbara smiled. “Listen Robin, B cares about you, a _lot._ He’s crap at expressing it, yeah, but he just wants to make sure you stay safe, _especially_ after almost losing you last year. He still trusts you, that’s why you’re his partner, but maybe waiting for solo patrol is a good idea.”

_“Oh yeah? Then maybe he should—hold on. Hey Nygma!_ ” Jason ran off screen for a moment, returning a second later with a rather annoyed Riddler dragging behind him. _“You aren’t getting away that easily, dude,”_ he muttered.

“You all done?” Barbara asked

_“Think so.”_ Jason kneeled down to tighten the cord holding Riddler in place. _“All his guys are out cold and he’s not goin’ anywhere. They never even breached the vault.”_

“Good. I’ll notify the GCPD.” 

Jason nodded curtly at the camera and Barbara switched over to traffic cams as he headed outside. 

_“Right, cool. So anyways,”_ Jason continued, _“if B trusts me so much, like you say, why does he always have you step in to babysit?”_

“Maybe because monitoring you guys is my job?”

_“Very funny, but really.”_ Jason shot off his grapple, swinging up into the rooftops. _“I could totally take care of Gotham without your help.”_

Barbara hummed. “Maybe, but like _I_ said, that doesn’t make up for the fact that B probably feels safer knowing you have backup. He’s still not over the Joker incident.”

Jason chuckled darkly. _“Yeah… wonder how that must feel.”_

Barbara froze. “Crap, Jay, I didn’t mean—”

_“Nah it’s fine, I get it.”_ He said, landing on a gargoyle. _“I just wish he’d talk to me about it, I guess. ‘Cause like… what happened to me was fucked up, I know that, I was there, but I don’t want it to define the rest of my life. Ever since I came out of that coma it feels like B sees me as that little alley kid all over again, like if he leaves me alone for even a second I’ll break. I mean… Jesus, he almost didn’t let me back in the cape after it happened. I just want to move on and leave all this crap behind, y’know?”_

“Yeah I…” Barbara’s fingers brushed absentmindedly over the fabric above her scar, “I do.” She said. 

_“Then you get why I’m pissed off!”_

Barbara took a deep breath, ignoring the twist of emotion in her stomach, and focused back on the moment. “I do, but as much as I want to side with you on this, you should still try to see it from Bruce’s perspective.”

_“What do you mean?”_

“Think about it. You’re his son, Jay, and he almost lost you. That’s a lot to process, and knowing B, he’s not doing it well. Of _course_ he’s gonna be a little paranoid and overbearing. I’m not saying that it’s _right,_ I think you should talk to him about it, but… I guess I _get_ it, in a way. Every day I worry I’m putting Tim in danger by teaching him the kind of stuff I am. He’s probably gonna end up in a costume eventually, as much as I don’t want him to, and… god I don’t know what I’ll do if that kid gets hurt because of me. B probably feels the same way.”

There was a long stretch of silence over the comm. _“Barb…”_ Jason began, hesitant. _“Who the hell is Tim?”_

Oh. 

Oops.

***

Tim slammed the door to his room, storming over to flop face first onto the bed. A whole month off. _Yeah right._ He never should’ve believed that. His cheeks were already wet with fresh tears, frustrated tears, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and disappear. He didn’t have the superpowers to do that, though, so all he could do was grab fistfuls of comforter and hope for the best.

Why did stuff suck so much sometimes? Why did the universe do that? His parents had barely been back _two weeks_ before they had announced they were starting a new business venture in Taiwan. Goodbye to the big break, _apparently._

They had just left for the airport and Tim felt like absolute crap. Maybe it was time to break out some of the more colorful curses he’d heard on TV, it always made him feel better to yell those in an empty house. Or… or maybe he just needed a good night of batwatching and some sleep. Yeah, that sounded good.

Tim made to get off the bed but froze as soon as he looked up. He swallowed thickly, heart rate spiking, and tightened his hold on the blanket.

_There was someone standing by his window._

He shot up and scrambled towards the door, sinking hurriedly into one of the fighting stances Barbara had walked him through.

“Woah woah,” the figure laughed, walking closer, “I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. Well… probably. Depends on how this conversation goes.”

Oh yeah, that _totally_ made Tim feel better. 

His brain was running a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do. This was what he’d been training for, a real, dangerous fight, he had just never expected it to happen in his room. He couldn’t exactly be picky, though.

His opponent had him at a disadvantage. They’d caught Tim by surprise and he could barely see them in the dark. He’d have to level the playing field if he wanted to have a fighting chance. 

He could do this.

Tim prepared himself to move and felt along the wall for the lightswitch. He flicked it on, squeezed his eyes shut, and lunged forward to land a hard punch to his opponent’s gut. With any luck, they’d be just disoriented enough by the light that he could catch them off guard before making his escape. 

He didn’t take into account that they might be Robin, though.

Instead of hitting anyone, Tim got a faceful of cape and a hard shove to the back, and then he was slamming headfirst into the wall. Definitely not his most graceful moment, but at least it gave him an excuse to use those curses he’d learned.

“Agh, holy shit, what the fuck kind of cuntery was that?” He groaned, clutching at his forehead. That was definitely gonna leave a bruise. 

There was a sharp laugh from above him. “Hah! Holy crap you swear like a sailor.” 

Robin’s face came into view, and it was only then that Tim realized he’d ended up on the floor at some point. He quickly sprung to his feet, swaying a bit, and glared at the boy leaning against his dresser.

“What the hell was that for?” He asked.

Robin put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, you attacked me first,” he said, smirking. “Nice job on that by the way, totally had me on my toes.”

Tim’s blushed. “I--why are here?”

Robin shrugged, grabbing an action figure off Tim’s dresser and examining it. “No reason, really. Just wanted to check out the kid Barb’s been training to be my replacement.”

Tim made a face. “Wait, what?”

Robin shot him a look. “Don’t play dumb with me. Barb said you figured out who we are all on your own, so you’ve gotta be pretty smart for a, what, six year old?”

“I’m _eight and a half,”_ Tim growled, “and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Robin dropped the action figure back in its spot and crossed over to get in Tim’s face. “Listen kid, I don’t care how old you are or how high your baby GPA is, you are not taking this from me.”

“Taking what?!” Tim shoved him away, angry.

Robin looked shocked for a moment before his face contorted into something nasty.

“Robin!” He yelled, gesturing to himself. “This costume, this mantle, this life! B put Barb up to it, didn’t he? Told her to go out and find some dewy eyed little boy to take my place ‘cause he’s too afraid I’m gonna screw up again! Well news flash, kid,” he spat, “I almost _died_ in this suit, and then worked my ass off to keep it, so there’s no _way_ I’m giving it up to some rich little hero-wannabe like you!”

The following silence was only broken by Robin’s heavy breathing, his chest heaving and shuddering with every inhale.

“I… I don’t want to be Robin, Jason,” Tim said softly. _That_ seemed to catch him off guard, his eyes widening behind the mask.

“I—You… what?” 

“I don’t want to be Robin.” Tim repeated.

Robin, _Jason,_ sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, brows furrowing. He looked lost in thought for a moment, confused, embarrassed, realization dawning slowly as his anger cooled. “Then why is Barb training you?” he asked.

“I’m… I’m trying to be Batgirl.” Tim admitted, and the last of the tension seemed to dissipate as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Really?” Jason looked at a loss for words.

Tim shrugged. “Yeah, though she’s not really training me _for_ Batgirl, I’m doing most of that work on my own.”

”And you... and you _just_ want to be Batgirl?”

”Mmhmm! She’s one of my biggest heroes, and since Barbara’s not gonna be her anymore, I’ll be her! I can’t wait to go out and kick butt in a pretty costume and make my own quips and stuff! Though I guess I need a little more training, but I’m getting there.”

“I…” Jason wiped a hand down his face, _“shit,”_ he muttered, moving to sit on the edge of Tim’s bed. He sat there for a moment, head in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair. 

“Dude,” he glanced up at Tim, “I am _so_ sorry for yelling at you, oh my _god.”_

Tim smiled despite himself. “It’s fine, we both jumped to conclusions.”

Jason chuckled dryly. “Yeah… jesus, yeah I guess so. I’m... sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I tried to attack you. Um,” Tim sat next to him on the bed, fiddling awkwardly with the cloth of his pants for a moment, “so do you wanna play video games now or something?”

Jason’s head snapped to look in his direction. “What?” 

“Well, I have a nice console downstairs, and there’s no one here to bother us about it. You wanna play a few rounds of something?”

“No no, I mean,” Jason laughed, “I mean I break into your room, push you around, yell at you about stupid shit, and then you immediately offer to play video games with me?”

Tim shrugged. “Yeah pretty much. You didn’t mean it, so we’re good, and I haven’t been having the best day myself, so I understand. Besides, I’ve learned it’s best not to dwell on arguments, no one ends up happy there.”

Jason laughed again, louder. “You’re weird, and a little off, I can see why Barb likes you.”

“So do you wanna?”

“Play video games?” He shook his head. “Nah, I should really be getting back to patrol. I kinda cut off my comm and rushed over here when Barb started talking about you, insecurities being what they are and all that.” He smiled sadly. “She’s... probably freaking out and there are people to protect so, yeah. I’m… I’m gonna go.” He eased off the bed and walked towards the window, hesitating once he had it open.

“Hey Tim?” He glanced over his shoulder. 

“Yeah?” 

“A word of advice, ‘cause I’ve been where you are, if you... if you want to do something, like _really_ want to do it, don’t wait. Find a way to get it done and don’t stop until you’ve achieved your goal. That’s… what I did when I was trying to get the cape back. Trust me on this.” Jason smiled, and then just like that he disappeared out the window and into the night.

Tim stayed sitting on his bed, just staring. 

The house was silent, no TV from downstairs or chatter from an impromptu yard party outside, no voices calling for him to come help with dinner or to come out to talk and an old friend of his parents, it was just Tim and the house. 

And in that silence, a plan started to form.

_Don’t wait._

He had to have the makings for a costume _somewhere_ in his dresser, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swearing Tim (tm) is brought to you by the friend that created this AU, and frankly I haven't been doing him justice, so I'm glad to finally give him some cusses this chapter.
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought, and as always feel free to come yell at me on Tumblr under the same username. Hope you all have a wonderful day/evening/night!
> 
> Edit: I've finally figured out how to add links on ao3 so here is all the art that exists for this AU so far! Please go give all of these ppl your love they are all very sweet and talented and Tooth is the one who created Batgirl Timmy!
> 
> [@aloofwindbag](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/)  
> [Tooth's original BG!Tim comic](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/188547615857/what-if-tim-wanted-to-be-batgirl-the-way-cooler)  
> [Second BG!Tim piece](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/617045479966015488/its-been-almost-seven-months-i-think-since-the)
> 
> [@sketchingtons](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/)  
> [Their beautiful baby Timmy piece](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/621850505467068416/a-baby-batgirltim-based-on-aloofwindbag-s-comic)  
> [Grown up Batgirl Tim!](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/622024598648733696/another-batgirltim-drawing-because-i-have-no-self)
> 
> [@dimothytrake](https://dimothytrake.tumblr.com/)  
> [Another lovely baby Batgirl Timbo](https://dimothytrake.tumblr.com/post/621873286894239745/aloofwindbag-and-tiptapricot-s-batgirl-tim-is)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought four days was a long time between updates but here I am rolling in a week later. This was not meant to take this long lmao but it's here now! If you haven't already, please check out the wonderful artists and art linked at the end of the previous chapter, as I'll be adding a few more at the end of this one. That being said, I hope you all enjoy!

Barbara had decided Jason was going to be the death of her.

She’d been explaining the Tim situation to him when he’d turned off his comm out of _nowhere._ That wouldn’t have been a problem in theory, but there was a fun glitch in the comm’s design that also meant she couldn’t track him when it was off. 

She’d been searching through various traffic cam security feeds for over an hour now, trying to see where he’d gone, but somehow Jason had managed to slip by all of them undetected.

She had half a mind to call Tim, just to make sure Jason hadn’t been stupid enough to go looking for a fight, but she stopped herself when she remembered his parents were actually _home_ for once. He’d be safe, and he deserved some family time.

But Jason was still missing. 

It was all too familiar to Barbara, and it made her uneasy. The last time Jason had dropped off the map like this… things hadn’t gone well. She was sure it wasn’t as serious this time, or she _hoped_ it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her from worrying. The kid was still dealing with a lot, who knew what he’d do if left alone for too long, or what _others_ would do to _him._

She was half-ready to call in the League to help search, her paranoia bubbling over with each passing minute. She’d even started dialing their emergency number, but of course _that_ was when Jason decided to turn his comm back on.

“Hey Barb,” he greeted casually, like he _hadn’t_ almost just given her a heart attack.

“Jason? Where the _hell_ have you been?” she demanded. “You had me worried _sick.”_

There was a nervous chuckle over the line. “Oh, y’know… around.”

_“Jesus,_ Jay.” She had his location in a matter of seconds. “Why the fuck are you in the Narrows?”

“I was… just visiting my old place. Wanted to see how stuff’s changed.”

“Visiting your old neighborhood for,” Barbara checked the time, “an hour and a half?”

Jason hummed in confirmation. “It’s an interesting neighborhood.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Jay.”

He snorted. “I like to think of myself as more of an ‘actor in training.’”

“You’re a damn gremlin, that’s what you are,” Barbara said. “I was _this_ close to calling Superman on your--hold on.” Her monitor had started beeping, a silent alarm for one of Wayne Tech’s warehouses. Dammit.

“Trouble?” Jason asked hopefully.

Barbara sighed. She was hesitant to leave things where they were without getting a straight answer from him, but she couldn’t ignore this. “We’re going to talk about this later, _believe me,_ but for now get your butt over to sixth, you have a patrol to finish.”

Jason whooped loudly over the line. “Saved by the bell!” he cheered.

At least he was still just as enthusiastic as usual, so nothing too serious could’ve happened.

The rest of the night continued without much incident. Jason stopped the small group of smugglers trying to swipe a shipment of Wayne-brand computers, “While it was easier,” they’d said, and there weren't more than a few stray muggings after that. When the clock hit three Barbara told Jason to turn in early.

She waited until his blip got back to the manor, said goodnight, and after getting nothing more than a long yawn in return, ended the call.

***

It took Jason four days to crack, four days filled with endless stories and excuses about why he’d turned off his comm. 

At first it was the same story he’d already told her, that he’d been visiting his old house out of a sudden sense of nostalgia, but then the house became an old hangout spot, and that became an old friend, and so on. Barbara couldn’t prove which story was true, if any, but it was safe to assume Jason hadn’t been “abducted by aliens and taken halfway across the galaxy,” at the very least, though he’d tried _really_ hard with that one. 

It got to a point where she was just ready to drop it, chalk the whole thing up to teenage angst and impulsivity and some weird coping mechanism and move on, but that was when he slipped up.

Dick had arrived late Friday and made a few appearances in one of the spare batsuits, finally causing the crime spike to lull. The resulting break meant that Barbara and Jason could relax for the first time in _weeks,_ and they made sure to take full advantage. 

Barbara visited the manor for celebratory ice cream the morning after the first “Bat-sighting,” and stayed while Alfred went out for groceries to make sure Jason didn’t wipe out the rest of the whipped cream before he got back. They watched some Netflix and walked around the manor grounds before settling down in the living room, reading in a companionable silence. 

Jason was lying upside down on the couch, feet dangling off the back with a book propped up on the floor so he could read it.

“That’s gonna give you a headache,” Barbara said, already noting the harsh flush creeping up his cheeks.

Jason flipped to the next page loudly. “I’ve read this eight times already, I wanna see if I’ll like it more when I’m a little delirious.”

“Funny, but I don’t think B will appreciate you having a stroke just because you wanted to see,” Barbara craned her neck to look at the title, _“Romeo & Juliet _ from a different angle.”

“Little Batgirl can just take over for me, can’t he? Let me read in peace Barb.” He said offhandedly. An awkward silence followed, both of them processing what he’d just said, before Jason sighed.

“Well,” he gave a strained smile and immediately moved to sit up, “didn’t mean to say that.”

“You know.” Barbara said. It wasn’t a question.

Jason nodded as he bookmarked his page. “I kinda dropped by his place after you started explaining stuff the other night.”

Barbara sighed. “Of course you did. You didn’t freak him out or anything, did you?”

“No no! I just, you know, looked around, talked to him a little…” he suddenly became very interested in the couch cushions, “told him to be Batgirl…”

“What?!” Barbara almost dropped her book. “You did _what?”_

Jason cringed comedically. “I didn’t say it, like, outright! I just said he should work to achieve his goals and stuff.”

“Jason, he’s just a kid! He’s gonna think that gives him the green light to start running around and picking fights!” Barbara explained, voice edging a bit on the frantic side. “He’ll probably--crap.” She backed out of the living room and started wheeling towards the door, Jason scrambling to follow.

“He’s not _that_ dumb, is he?” He asked.

“No, he’s not. He’s smart, _too_ smart for a kid his age, but he’s also committed and passionate,” Barbara said. “I’ve watched him latch onto this thing, commit to it, and as much as I’ve tried to talk him out of it, I can tell he’s not listening to me. I’ve been doing my best to prepare him, but you have to understand he’s not _ready_ yet. He could probably take on the garden variety burglar or bully or something, but he’s not ready for Gotham. Not that that’ll stop him…”

Jason nodded and swallowed nervously as they got into Barbara’s car. He suddenly looked rather pale. “You don’t think he’s tried to go out already, do you?” he asked.

“I’m… I don’t know,” Barbara admitted. “A lot can happen in four days.” 

Jason‘s eyes widened, something pained crossing over his face as he settled back in his seat. She knew he understood what that meant, probably better than she did. Barbara wished she could say something to make him feel better, to wipe the look of worry and guilt from his face, but she couldn’t. She _wanted_ to say Tim would be fine, that he had enough sense not to go out alone, but their first meeting and his photo collection proved otherwise. 

So they drove in silence.

The Drake estate wasn’t that far from the manor, but the ride still gave Barbara plenty of time to imagine all the horrible ways Tim could’ve gotten hurt if he’d tried to fight a gang or big time villain all by himself. They probably would’ve heard if he’d gotten sent to the hospital, right? Or his parents would’ve called it in if he went missing? Barbara could hope for that, at least.

She was trying not to compare the situation to Jason’s, but he was _right there._ Things had happened so fast after he’d run off, would this be the same? From missing to in a coma in under a week? She didn’t want that for Tim, and she hated that Jason had to live with that already, but what could she do?

It had been four days since Jason had put that idea in Tim’s head. _Four days._

So much could happen in that time.

***

The gates were closed when they rolled up to the Drake estate. Barbara parked just off the road out front and she and Jason backtracked to use the intercom, both brimming with nervous energy.

“Hello?” Barbara spoke into the microphone. “Mr. or Mrs. Drake, this is Barbara. I wanted to talk with Tim about a school project, can you buzz me in?”

There was an odd, muffled, shuffling over the speaker, and she and Jason exchanged a glance.

“Hello?” She tried again. “This is important.”

_“Barbara?!”_ Came the reply, sharp and sudden, like whoever was on the other side was speaking directly against the mic.

“I, yes? Who is this?”

_“It’s Tim! Oh my gosh I’ve missed you, you haven’t come over in foreveeer!”_

Relief flooded through Barbara, her shoulders relaxing and a small smile making its way onto her face. Tim was home, safe, and judging by his tone of voice, perfectly fine.

“I’ve missed you too hun. Can you let us in? I’d like to speak with you and your parents about something.”

_“Umm… yeah. Lemme find the button thingy, hold on. They got a new set up for this before they left last week.”_

Barbara’s smile dropped. Left? His parents had _left?_ The last she’d heard from Tim they were off for a month, that’s why she’d been able to focus so easily on managing Gotham, _because she’d thought he was spending time with his family._ Apparently not, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d be having a very frank talk with Jack and Janet whenever they were back in town, that was for sure, but for now she was going to focus on their kid herself. 

The gates swung open and she and Jason made their way up to the house. Barbara didn’t quite know how this was going to go, but she’d been meaning to have a more serious conversation with Tim about this whole thing for a while now anyway, she’d just kept putting it off. No better time than the present, though. 

The door opened to reveal Tim’s beaming face. He was in shorts and a t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to bunch around his shoulders and streaks of yellow paint covering his hands and arms. He had a few more bandaids than the last time she'd seen him, including a large purple one over the bridge of his nose, but other than that he looked mostly the same. Maybe a bit more tired, a bit more bruised, but he was still just as round-faced and vibrant. It made Barbara smile, despite what she knew was going to be a hard conversation.

“It’s good to see you, Tim,” she said, welcoming the hug he rushed forward to give. “I’ve heard you and Jason have already gotten acquainted?”

Tim glanced up at Jason from his place in Barbara’s arms and smiled wider.

“Yeah! He gave me this cool forehead bruise that looked like a pineapple.” 

Barbara shot Jason a look. He shrugged. 

“It went away after a day or two though,” Tim said, pulling back, “otherwise I’d show you.” He almost sounded sad that he couldn’t.

“I’d _love_ to know the story behind that someday,” Barbara said, “but for now we have some stuff to talk about.”

“Yeah, I know, you said… but I have something I want to show you first! C’mon.”

He led them inside and down the entrance hall, bouncing with each step. Barbara didn’t know if they really had time for this, whatever it was, but she could humor Tim for a bit. The kid deserved a little fun.

That sentiment died immediately as soon as they set foot in the living room.

It was covered in art supplies. Cardboard, wood, paint, cloth, paper, the works. That would’ve been fine on its own, (so the kid liked crafts, great!) if not for the common _theme_ among all the finished projects. 

Homemade, whittled, batarangs sat on one table, while what looked like an attempt at a grappling cord sat on another. There was a small basket of cloth scraps balancing on the arm of the couch, the purples and yellows making Barbara’s stomach twist, and a stack of drawings strewn over the carpet. It looked like Tim had been hard at work after all, just not on what she had expected.

This was going to complicate things.

“You guys can sit over here while I get ready.” Tim said cheerfully, tugging Barbara towards the couch. He shoved off a few stray papers to make room for them to settle down before quickly hurrying over to the window. “Now, no peeking. I’ll be out in a sec.” He flashed them a smile and then disappeared behind the curtains before Barbara could say another word, leaving her and Jason to wait awkwardly by themselves.

Jason laughed softly. “He really is committed, you’re right.”

“That’s not helping.” Barbara whispered. This just meant Tim was more focused on Batgirl than she’d previously thought, and that didn’t bode well for their conversation.

“Yeah, I guess not, but look at this.” He picked up one of the wooden batarangs, testing the point experimentally with the tip of his finger. “He has some good skills, I couldn’t have done this at his age.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s ready.”

“Well, _duh.”_ Jason dropped it back with the others. “Never said _that,_ but he could be someday, yeah?”

Barbara continued staring straight ahead at the curtain.

“Oh c’mon Barb.”

“You were just as worried about him as I was on the drive over, I’m not letting you rope me into making him a hero now.”

“I’m not _saying_ that. I’m _saying_ with a little more training, maybe some official stuff and some good tech, maybe _then_ it could work.”

Barbara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No means no, Jason.”

“Hey, look. I _was_ worried about the kid, and I still am. He’s not ready for the cape, I agree, but he’s gonna end up there just like you said.”

“You change your mind fast.” 

“Hey, I didn’t realize he was _this_ into it, okay? I’ve talked to him once and I thought he was kind of a nerd, but this,” he gestured to the state of the room, “isn’t just a childhood obsession.”

“I _know.”_ She hissed, a bit exasperated.

“Then why don’t you want to help him?”

“I _do,_ but I don’t want to lose him, he’s—it’s just dangerous!” Barbara snapped.

“So is leaving him to his own devices, as we can very clearly see!” Jason whispered harshly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, really, and we can talk about this later, but now is not the time to—”

“Ta da!” The curtain was flung aside in one big motion and Tim stepped out, hands on his hips in a cheesy heroic pose. “What do you think?” 

Barbara and Jason both froze, looking at Tim in surprise.

He was wearing an outfit, a _uniform._ It was obviously homemade, from the sharpie details on the logo right down to the needlework on the belt, but it was a _Batgirl_ uniform.

“Here, I’ll show you it in action, then you can give me your verdict.” Tim said, grinning gleefully. He struck another pose right before jumping across the room and ducking into a roll.

Barbara was speechless. She didn’t really know what to think. Her immediate instinct was to put an end to Tim’s theatrics and repeat what she’d been saying for months, that “it’s dangerous,” and “you’ll get hurt,” and “you’re not ready,” but she didn’t. She _couldn’t._

Maybe it was something Jason had said, or maybe deep down she’d been thinking about it for awhile, but something about seeing Tim there? Seeing him smile like he was on top of the world in his little purple skirt and badly sewn t-shirt? Seeing his eyes light up behind the strip of cloth mask slipping down his nose and watching his little cape fan out behind him as he ran across the living room? Something about it… clicked. 

She _remembered_ being that kid. She remembered making her own costume and feeling the exhilaration that came when she first stepped out on the streets. It was like watching her mini self. Tim was a little younger, true, and his own person altogether, but the intentions were the same. 

Batgirl had never been a shiny, special, position like Batman or Robin, it had always been _hers,_ built from the ground up because she’d had the drive to help people. It was the same with Tim, and she didn’t know why it had taken her so long to see that.

So Barbara said nothing, just watched, and when Jason reached out to touch her arm with a soft _“Woah Barb,”_ she realized she had started crying. Wasn’t that funny? She’d dealt with years worth of trauma, fights and injuries and the loss of her legs, but the thing that really got to her now was this sweet little kid dancing around in badly painted knee pads and a pair of clip on bat earrings. Go figure.

“I want to put glitter on the shoes, but I’m still deciding whether I should go with boots or a nice pair of roller skates. What do you—?” Tim froze mid spin, face falling as he caught sight of Barbara. “Woah, are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded, smiling wetly as she quickly removed her glasses to wipe at the tears. “It’s nothing.”

“Um… okay.” Tim deflated slowly, like the air being let out of a balloon. He looked down nervously at his outfit, and then back up at her. “Do you… do you not like it or something?” He asked, voice suddenly so _genuinely_ worried that Barbara found herself crying again.

“Oh _fuck.”_ Her voice broke. “No, no no no Tim I _love_ it.” She rolled over to him, taking his shoulders gently in both hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I have never—look at me for a sec bud.” She tilted his chin up so they were face to face. “I have _never_ seen a more beautiful Batgirl than the one standing in front of me _right now,”_ she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Tim swallowed thickly. “You really mean it?” He asked.

Barbara smiled and took an unsteady breath, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. “Of course I do, Timothy Drake.” 

Tim tensed, breath hitching, before he melted into the touch, hands coming up to grab hesitantly onto the cloth of her shirt. His grip only tightened when Barbara pulled him into a hug, rocking him slowly and murmuring praises into his hair as he began to cry.

“This is a real relief, y’know,” he said shakily, the hint of a laugh muffled as he spoke, “I’ve been stressing about this for days.”

Barbara chuckled lightly. “And I’ve been stressing about _you_ for _months.”_

Tim leaned back a bit so he could look up at her, smiling. Barbara brushed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. Tim nodded, wiping at the snot running over his lip. 

“Think so.” He said.

“Okay.” Barbara pulled away gently, moving to grab his hand and lead him towards the bathroom. “Then we’re gonna get you cleaned up, and then we can figure out that shoe dilemma, alright?”

Tim looked up at her in shock, eyes wide and wet.

“Does that mean--?”

She gave his hand a firm squeeze. “We can talk about it more, but what I’ll say for now is that Batgirl has to look good, doesn’t she?”

There was a loud laugh of surprise, and then he was hugging her, burying himself in her arms tighter and harder than before. When he pulled away again Barbara _swore_ that his smile could have lit up the world. Tim cackled gleefully as he ran for the bathroom, stumbling over himself along the way.

She smiled fondly and glanced back to see Jason mouthing the words, _‘You change your mind fast,’_ with a smug smirk on his face. Barbra just rolled her eyes and followed Tim down the hall. 

She scrubbed his face clean with a warm towel while he swung his legs against the edge of the bathtub, and then they settled down on the living room carpet with glue and glitter and a pair of off-the-shelf yellow galoshes. Skates would be his backup, they’d decided.

Jason joined them shortly after, immediately falling into a conversation with Tim about the best types of costume materials. Tim was _very_ interested in Jason’s experiences with theater, and it was nice to see that they seemed to get along pretty well. 

By the time dinner rolled around Barbara was laughing and Tim was beaming and Jason was weaving pipe cleaners into his hair like alien antennae.

The evenings always seemed to go well with Tim, only this time their good evening didn’t end after dinner. Instead it became a good night and a good morning, an all-nighter full of bad jokes and haphazard combat practice and spilled popcorn.

It was just past ten am when Barbara finally settled on the couch with a mug of tea, fresh from tucking the kids in upstairs. She was tired, _Jesus_ she was tired, but she was content too.

This could actually work. It _would_ work. Tim was going to be Batgirl, and he was going to be graceful and powerful and _beautiful_ in the role. Tim was going to be Batgirl, and he was going to be happy, he was going to make it his. Tim was going to be Bat—...man. Batman.

_Bruce._

Oh _dammit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should not take as long to get out, and it may or may not end up being the last one depending on how things go. Thank you all for such a wonderful response to this fic! You all are so sweet and I'm glad I could help Batgirl Tim be more widely known. Hope you have a wonderful day!  
> \----
> 
> [@aloofwindbag](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/)  
> [Skateboardin' Batgirl](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/622574471625179136/skate-skate-skate)  
> [Bow bb!](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/622575635937771520/tim-as-batgirl-tim-skateboarding-what-more)
> 
> [@sketchingtons](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/)  
> [Roller Skate Timmy](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/622109242567081984/self-control-i-dont-know-her-yet-another)  
> [Snazzy roller skate Timmy ;-0](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/622289166136393729/just-a-small-doodle-today-lads-tim-in-some-sick)  
> [A cute batty laddy](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/622192037500944384/excuse-me-your-art-is-amazing-and-your-getting-me)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy what’s up guys it’s two weeks on the dot 👊👋  
> This would’ve come out sooner except it ended up 1. Way longer than I expected and 2. An absolute bitch to edit  
> But!! It’s here now. Just a mild warning, there is a fight scene involving choking, so if that’s a trigger for you you can skip from “hed gotten a few hits to the jaw...” to “Tim waited a few seconds...”  
> Hope you enjoy!

Tim had never been the most social kid. Not for lack of trying, he just hadn’t had enough opportunities to interact with other kids his age to make friends. He was homeschooled, and the only times he went out for more than shopping were when his parents dragged him to a party or he was running around Gotham’s streets with his camera.

Batwatching wasn’t made for company, and most gala guests were older than him, so neither really counted. Once in a while a couple would bring their baby or toddler to an event, dolled up just as glittery as their parents, but that wasn’t any better. Tim had talked to the Waynes a few times, before all the Batgirl stuff started, and that had been nice, but he’d usually been too star struck or nervous to carry on the conversation for more than a few minutes. For the most part he stuck to the edges of the room, occasionally venturing into the crowd to pick up food from the buffet table or to get a drink. 

He didn’t mind it too much though. Tim  _ liked _ watching from afar, in a lot of ways. He was content living in his own bubble, where he didn't have to rely on others to do things for him. It was a lot less stressful that way, when he only had to worry about himself.

He supposed that came from his parents, in a way. Even though he’d had plenty of sitters throughout his life there were still long stretches of time when he was alone, either between their scheduled hours at the house or in the time when his parents were looking to hire a new one.

So he’d adapted, learned how to cook, how to get dressed, shower, and take care of himself. The only problem was that with that shift, with that learning curve, there had never really been  _ time _ for friends. It sounded cheesy, he’d skimmed through plenty of books in the library about tragic social outcasts who ended up saving the day with the power of friendship (and he hated most of them), but he’d never really understood them until now. He’d never really understood  _ friends _ until now.

People were just… hard. He hadn’t thought about it much further than that.

Barbara had taken some adjusting, but things had settled eventually. He’d gotten used to the attention and the hugs and the reminders to brush his teeth before bed, and it had become his new normal. He’d thought that that was what friends were like, but now there was Jason, and everything was weird again.

Not in the same way, he was fine with talking and physical affection and everything for the most part, but it was the first time he’d known someone even  _ close _ to his age, and he had never realized how different that would be. Jason liked video games and he was still in school and he had to deal with parent issues just the same as Tim, it was weird. He could  _ relate _ to him, and find common ground on things he’d never really been able to talk about before.

It probably helped that he was one of Tim’s biggest heroes, and bar what had been a somewhat rough introduction, pretty easy to get along with. Jason was gruff on the surface, but became funny and casual the more they talked. Maybe that’s just how it worked, since something similar had happened with Barbara. Tim was still learning. Most of the people in his life up to that point had felt distant, and he’d never really questioned it, so now actually knowing people as  _ people,  _ and having them already know him so well in return was… strange. Not bad, just strange. 

His main takeaway from it all was that friendships were good, even if he was still figuring out some of the finer intricacies of them. Like sleepovers, he’d never done one of those before, but he was now!

Barbara had set him and Jason up in Tim’s room after their all nighter, Tim in his bed and Jason on a roll out futon Tim had grabbed from his mom’s closet. They’d piled on blankets and pillows and even broken out the blackout curtains to make everything feel authentic. Barbara had left them to sleep, and as soon as they'd both been sure she couldn’t hear them, they had started talking.

Jason had explained all about sleepovers, how the whole point was  _ not _ to sleep, and how they were great training for working long hours as a Bat. He had also said sleepovers were nights for deep talks and self reflection, where you could look into the dark and the dark could look back at you.

Tim had thrown a pillow at him for that, and their conversation had devolved from there. 

“You stole the  _ wheels _ off the  _ Batmobile?” _ Tim hissed in astonishment.

Jason laughed from his place on the floor. “Yep. Big ol’ B never saw me coming.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Eh, it was nothing. I’ve done cooler.”

“Really?” Tim moved to look over the edge of the bed, even though he couldn’t see Jason in the dark.

“Yeah, B doesn’t like to advertise ‘cause otherwise he’d have every kid in Gotham clamoring for a cape, but just between you and me, you gain coolness the longer you’re in this gig,” Jason whispered, and Tim could almost  _ hear _ the cheeky wink that accompanied it.

He snorted. “So I’ll be cooler than you after one night?”

“Hey!” A pillow whipped out of the darkness and hit him in the face. Tim squeaked in surprise and rolled away from the attack, laughing as he settled on his back.

“No twerp like you could ever hope to reach Boy Wonder levels of coolness, that’s exclusive to me.”

“And Nightwing.” Tim pointed out. 

“Well… yeah I  _ guess _ but that’s not what I meant.”

“Right right, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Batgirl’s  _ already _ cooler than Robin. I could  _ never _ stoop that low on the cool scale.” 

Jason scoffed loudly and the pillow hit Tim over the shins this time. He smiled in satisfaction. 

“You’re such a little shit,” Jason said, but there was no malice behind it. At least… Tim didn’t think there was. That was something else he’d figured out by talking to Jason, saying things that would normally be mean were playful instead. It was kind of fun actually. He’d been trying it out himself and it seemed to be going well.

“Dick’s gonna love you,” Jason said with a grunt, breaking Tim out of his thoughts as he pulled the pillow back.

“Really?”

Jason chuckled. “You kidding? The guy’ll probably melt at the sight of you. He  _ loves _ kids, especially ones with attitude.”

Tim mulled that over for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling through the dark. He kept forgetting he’d be meeting even  _ more _ people soon. That was… weird to think about.

“What’s he, uh, what’s he like?” He asked, hesitant.

“Hm?”

“What’s Night-- _ Dick, _ like? As a person?”

Jason blew out a long breath. “That’s a pretty big question dude, why d’you wanna know?”

“Well, ‘cause…” Tim thought for a moment. “Because they’re always different.”

“Who are?”

“People. You, Barbara, I have an idea in my head of who I think you are and that’s  _ not _ who you are. Well, not really. I just… figuring out people is hard, it’d be easier if you just told me.”

Jason was silent for a moment. “Yeah alright, sure.” Tim heard his covers shift as he adjusted himself. “Well to start, uh, Dick is... nice,” he said. “He’s really driven and supportive, uh, and he always works really hard. He’s definitely got a temper, but it’s nothing crazy aggressive or scary, not unless he’s really stressed, and he’s... he’s a good guy. In general. I think you’d like him too.”

Tim smiled, even though he knew Jason couldn’t see it. “He sounds cool.”

“Not as cool as you, Mister Cool Guy.” Tim felt Jason hit the side of the bed playfully. His stomach twinged at that for some reason. Nothing painful, more of an emotional unease. That was weird, so he tried to ignore it.

“Hey what’s going on in your life though?” Jason asked. “I feel like I’ve been doing most of the talking tonight, and sleepovers can’t get deep without mutual effort. How are you feeling about this Batgirl business?”

“Uh,” Tim cleared his throat, “well it’s exciting, and… strange at the same time.”

He heard Jason move again. “How so?”

“I dunno. Everything’s happening really fast and taking really long at the same time. I  _ want _ to be a hero, I think I  _ can _ be a hero, and I know I need a little work, it just feels like I still don’t know where the end line is, or what I have to do to get there.

Jason chuckled. “You’re pretty dang articulate for a guy your age, I keep forgetting.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Tim smiled half heartedly.  _ But there was that twinge again. _ He concentrated, focusing on the feeling this time, chasing it. What was that? Why was he—oh.

“I don’t—” Tim’s brows furrowed in thought as he tried to figure out a way to put the feeling into words. “I don’t really feel like I’m a  _ guy _ right now though,” he finally said.

Jason was silent for a moment before Tim heard him shift again. “How  _ do _ you feel then?”

Tim took a deep breath. “Um… well I’ve talked to Barbara about it a few times, but I’m still trying to figure it out. The best way to put it is that I feel… more like a boy sometimes, and more like a girl other times, and sometimes neither, and sometimes both and sometimes different in between spots and it’s—” Tim sighed, collecting his thoughts. “Stuff, gender, me, it’s weird. Not bad, I like who I am a lot, but sometimes it’s really hard to describe.”

“That’s okay,” Jason said. “Do you want me not to use ‘guy’ for you? Cause that’s totally chill.”

“Maybe…” Tim squeezed his sleep shirt a bit, “maybe just not right now. I think I’m kinda… feeling more like a girl right now? Not like… fully… I’m not sure.”

“Alright.”

They both were quiet for a bit.

“Hey! I have an idea.” From the corner of his eye Tim could see Jason’s silhouette roll to look at him. “I have a couple casual friends at my school that are trans, and when they were first figuring themselves out they had to try a bunch of different stuff to see what fit best.”

“Yeah me and Barbara did that with some clothes and stuff last month. It was nice.”

“Nah, I’m talking just words. Like rapid fire association-type stuff to figure out what works when you’re feelin’ like this.”

Tim snorted. “You think that’ll help?”

Jason hummed in a sort of ‘i dunno.’ “We could always try, and if you don’t like it we can stop. No pressure.”

“Hm. Ok.”

“Alright. How about we start off easy. Bro?”

“Hmm, eh.”

“Dude?”

“I guess.”

“He/him?”

Tim thought for a moment. “Not… right now, actually.” It was a strange realization to have. Pronouns had never really come into play until now.

“They/them?”

It felt a little better, but not quite right for how Tim was feeling. “Maybe.”

“She/her?”

Tim’s stomach felt warm. “Could you… use that in a sentence or something? About me?”

“Yeah of course! Um, ‘Tim is nice, I think she’s funny and talented and her taste in action figures is very cool.’ How’d that feel?”

It felt… it felt like a zing of energy spreading through Tim’s chest. Not a switch from ‘wrong’ to ‘right,’ more like a piece clicking into place. It felt  _ nice. _ It felt  _ good. _ “Yeah, yep. I liked that, that one fits.”

Jason chuckled lightly. “Cool, cool. Uhh, down the slightly more feminine word aisle then, how do you feel about me calling you a lady?”

Tim smiled. “I think it makes me sound like a grandma, but ok.”

Jadon cleared his throat dramatically. “Well then m’lady Tim, would you like to continue?” He asked, with all the frill and bravado of an overdone Shakespeare play.

Tim snorted. “Yeah, this is fun.”

“Very well. How dost the lovely lady feel about the term ‘pretty?’”

“It is simply divine,” she said, copying Jason’s tone.

“Princess?”

“Oooo, very good.”

“Girl?”

“Mmm, not riiight now, but it’s a close call.”

“Pineapple face?”

Tim laughed, breaking character. “Jason!” 

She dangled her leg off the bed to kick at the futon. Jason slapped at her foot in retaliation, an indignant noise making its way past his lips when she managed to kick him square in the chest after feeling through the dark for a moment. He made an over dramatic choking noise and collapsed against the bed with a loud thump.

“I have been slaaain,” he gurgled, enacting what Tim could only imagine was a very dramatic death scene.

She laughed again and pulled her foot back under the covers, rolling to look down at him. She couldn’t really see his face in the dark, but she could make out the slight silhouette of an arm draped melodramatically over his forehead.

“I give that performance a ten out of ten,” she said.

“Why thank you, I do believe it was one of my best,” he replied.

“I do too,” Tim whispered, turning back to look at the ceiling.

“Do you feel like that helped at all?” Jason asked after a moment.

“Kind of. I haven’t really put much thought into a lot of this yet.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You’ve got plenty of time to work things out. Or not.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! If I know one thing about this whole mess it’s that when it comes to stuff like gender, or sexuality, or romantic attraction, it takes time. Stuff changes, people change, it’s all cool. You don’t gotta know everything when you’re eight.”

“And a  _ half,” _ Tim interjected, “almost three quarters now.”

“Right yeah. Point still stands though. I mean I’m gonna be like,” Jason stopped, and Tim heard him counting under his breath, “seventeen soonish and I still don’t have everything worked out. I don’t even think my  _ dad _ has everything worked out,” he admitted.

“You’ve had to deal with this kind of stuff?”

“Uh, yeah kinda. Not gender, I’ve always been pretty alright with bein’ a guy, but some other stuff, sure.”

Tim hummed, pulling the comforter up to her chin. “Like what?”

Jason blew out a long breath. “I dunno. Romance-y stuff. I’m still working it out.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s weird though. People are weird.”

“People have  _ always _ been weird.”

Jason laughed. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Thanks for the talk, Jay. It was really nice,” Tim said with a yawn.

“Always happy to help. Lemme know if you ever want me to beat anyone up or whatever, y’know, out of costume.”

“Nah, I can do that myself. Ain’t nobody gonna be picking on miss Timothy Batgirl Drake.”

Jason snorted. “Hell yeah they won’t!” There was a slight tug on Tim’s blanket and she realized he was feeling around for her hand. After a moment of fumbling they managed a pretty half hearted high five, but the sentiment was there. The lack of sleep was catching up with both of them, it seemed.

“We should figure out like,” Tim yawned again, “like a secret sidekick handshake or something, for when I get to fight on the streets with you and stuff.”

Jason chuckled sleepily. “Sounds good.”

“Good night Jay.”

“G’night Princess Batgirl.”

Tim managed one last laugh at the nickname before she drifted off, her heart fluttering happily in her chest.

***

When she woke up Jason’s bed was already empty. The blackout curtains had been stripped off at some point, leaving everything bathed in the soft pink light of late evening. Jeez, how long had she been asleep?

Tim slid out from under the covers, stretching with a groan as she made her way over to her dresser. She changed out of her pajamas slowly and began to get dressed, making sure to grab one of the skirts Barbara had given her from the bottom drawer before heading towards the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and hair, blinking away the sleepiness minute by minute, and when she finally stepped out into the hall, she felt refreshed.

Today was going to be a good day, she could tell. She was ready for more training, ready to finally reach the next step towards helping, towards being a hero. Maybe Jason would let her look at his utility belt, or Barbara would let her listen in on a patrol. Maybe they’d give her her own batarangs or grapple gun or let her touch a Batcycle. Maybe they’d take her to the batcave or show her the Batmobile or let her meet  _ Batman. _

There was so much that could happen, that  _ would _ happen, now that she was going to be Batgirl for  _ real, _ and before Tim knew it she was sprinting down the hall towards the kitchen, heart racing as a smile crept onto her face. 

She meant to slide to a halt in front of the door and burst in with some kind of mix of good morning and good evening, “mornevening” being her first choice, only she forgot she was wearing socks. They slid on the hardwood floor with the momentum, sending her feet shooting out from under her. She grabbed the edge of the door frame in a panic and tried to steady herself, her feet slipping this way and that, and managed to turn the fall to more of a slow slide down the wall. It strained her arms a bit, but at least she didn’t end up eating shit in the middle of the hallway.

Tim ended up on her back, face flushed from the sudden adrenaline rush. That had been… close.  _ Too _ close. She had to be more careful than that, it wasn’t befitting of a hero to almost wipe out just because of a small mistake. There would be no falls for Batgirl from now on, no siree.

Tim took a deep breath and got to her feet, rolling her shoulders before gently opening the kitchen door. The TV was on low, evening news probably, but Tim couldn’t make out the specifics. She wondered vaguely if Barbara had put it on because the TV was always running whenever she’d come to visit Tim. It was a nice thought at least. 

She could hear voices too, coming from the dining room, but as she came closer those turned out to be a lot less pleasant.

“We’ll just… have to put it off.” Barbara was saying. She sounded exhausted, her voice resigned and rough.

“Are you sure? She’s not gonna like that.” Jason replied.

“I know, but I don’t really see any other option. Without Bruce on board…” there was a sigh, “I just can’t see this going any further.”

Tim stopped next to the fridge, still out of sight from where Barbara and Jason were sitting. Were they… were they talking about her? She could feel her good mood evaporating by the second, but she slid down into a crouch to continue listening.

“So,” Jason began after a beat, “how should we break it to her?”

“I’m not sure. She’s… I don’t want her to be upset. I know we can get Bruce on board, at least eventually, but like you said, any kind of setback isn’t going to sit well with her.”

“Yeah. Ok.” 

They meant Batgirl, didn’t they? They meant her. But that didn’t make  _ sense. _ She thought they’d gotten past that already. Barbara had  _ said _ she could do it, both of them had helped her finish her costume, they had trained and Jason had  _ just _ called her Batgirl before bed and--

“I’ll go wake her up and we can--ah shit.” Tim flinched, head snapping to look up at Jason. She hadn’t even heard him get up. “Heyyy there Timmy. ‘S there something cool on the floor?” He asked, flashing a strained smile

Tim’s eyes narrowed. “What did you mean just now, about a setback?”

Jason's face fell. He took a deep breath, sighed, and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “C’mon.” He led her over to the kitchen island where Barbara was sitting and pulled out a chair for her.

“Hey hun.” Barbara’s face softened and she reached out to hold her hand over the counter. “You overheard that?”

Tim nodded. “Some of it.”

Jason and Barbara exchanged a glance. “Alright, then I guess we have some explaining to do,” she said. “I want to start by saying that—”

“We’re totally still on board to help you!” Jason interrupted. “You’re super dope and we want you in a cape.”

“Yes, that,” Barbara gave him a stern look, “but… but it might be a while until we can make it official.”

“Why?” Tim pulled her hand back, a mess of feelings unfurling in the pit of her stomach. This was so sudden, and she felt queasy.

“Because of Bruce.” Barbara said. It was stated like an answer, like an end. Tim’s heart sank. “I don’t like following his orders any more than the next person, but it’s going to be hard to introduce a new hero when he’s…” Barbara pursed her lips, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“When he’s still hung up about my romp with near death last year,” Jason finished for her. 

“Exactly.”

“So? I can be safe!” Tim insisted, trying to quell the growing frustration creeping up the back of her throat. She didn’t really know how to handle this, she’d been so happy after last night, after her talk with Jason, and now things were falling apart.

“Listen Tim, Dad’s… overprotective. He’s gonna look at you and, I dunno, see me in a weird way. He’s not gonna  _ get _ that you can fight or be a great Batgirl, which you can, he’s just gonna see you as… another kid.”

“But then… then why don’t we just ignore him? You guys can train me right?” She offered hopefully.

Jason sighed. “We could but… Even when you  _ are _ fully trained Gotham is still safer with a partner, and to get you started Bruce has to  _ be _ that partner. I’d do it but… well the dynamic duo thing is kind of hard to get out of. Any way we spin this he has to be involved, so without his consent, we’re kind of screwed.”

“Ugh.” Tim dropped her head to rest against the counter. A good day  _ indeed. _

“But hey, there’s good news too!” She felt Jason’s hand on her shoulder. “Barb got a message that B’s gonna be coming back to Gotham earlier than expected,  _ tonight. _ We’re going to try and breach the subject with him, get the ball rolling and everything. Maybe this won’t be a hold up at all!”

Tim looked up and raised a brow. Jason shrugged. After a moment she sighed, closing her eyes, and nodded. “Ok, fine.”

Jason looked taken aback, sharing a wide eyed glance with Barbara.

“Really?” He asked. “You’re not angry or upset or anything?”

“I’m… disappointed that it might take longer, but as long as I can be Batgirl  _ eventually _ I don’t mind waiting a bit. I’ve come this far, right?” She said, putting on a practiced smile.

“That’s very mature of you, Tim.” Barbara wheeled around the island to give her a hug. “I promise, we’re going to get you Batgirl.”

Tim hesitates before hugging back. “I know,” she whispered.

She did, she  _ meant _ that, and it was why lying to them like this hurt so much. They’d do their best, she knew that, but she was done waiting. If there were going to be more delays, she’d have to take things into her own hands.

The two of them left to get ready for patrol around ten, and Barbara told Tim she’d call to check in with any info in a few hours. Tim smiled and waved and put on a show of looking unbothered and calm, but the second Barbara’s car pulled away from the gates she was running for her room.

She had her costume packed in minutes, folded neatly in her backpack alongside a bulleted list of reasons why she’d make the perfect Batgirl. She changed into better biking gear, regretful that she had to leave the skirt behind, and ate a quick dinner before grabbing her police scanner. She was going to do this right.

If Batman was the problem, she’d just go straight to him. She was  _ going _ to be Batgirl, whether he liked it or not.

***

It didn’t take long for the scanner to start picking up reports of vigilante sightings. Tim followed them from place to place, making sure to keep far enough away that Jason wouldn’t be able to spot her. 

Her plan was to wait until after Barbara’s scheduled check in, when Jason would (hopefully) be called away when she didn’t answer. That would give her a chance to talk to Batman one on one and pitch her side of the story. She didn’t want to make anyone worry, but it was the only way she could see her plan working out without getting sent back home.

Now it was just a waiting game.

Tim continued to follow the reports, her legs beginning to ache from all the peddling, and just like clockwork the sightings became solo a few minutes after twelve.

Now was her chance.

A robbery on Fifth, convicts found tied up at the scene, a Batman sighting on Third a few minutes later. She was so close. A mugging victim calling in the perp, who was knocked out at the scene, a car robbery stopped and reported. Tim was closing in. She wasn’t trying to stay in the shadows anymore, biking quickly down the sidewalk.

That’s when she saw it.

A streak of black darting between buildings a few blocks up. She took a deep breath and rode faster. So close.  _ So close. _

She tracked the shadow for another six blocks, swerving every time he changed directions, tracking him between the gargoyles. When she saw him swing down into an alley she couldn’t believe her luck. She coasted the rest of the way, stumbled off her bike in her rush to dismount, and turned the corner with her heart in her throat.

But the alley was empty.

Tim’s heart sank. She’d lost him.

All that work, and she’d lost him. She didn’t know if she could continue tracking him, she was tired and her legs hurt and the adrenaline crash was making her feel horrible, but it was probably the only night she’d be able to do this. It was definitely too late to go back home, Barbara and Jason would be there looking for her by now, but maybe she could wait out ‘till morning at a bus stop or something.

Maybe.

Tim sighed and began to wheel her bike around.  _ Maybe _ she really would have to wait, and hope.  _ Maybe _ some things just weren’t meant to be.  _ Maybe _ she had to accept—

Her tire caught in something solid. It startled her out of her thoughts and the world came back into focus. Had she just gone blind or something? All she could see was black. No, she could still see her handlebars, and the new purple streamers she’d gotten for them, so what was this?

“Why are you following me?” A voice asked, deep and gruff and  _ oh. _

Tim followed the black, up, up, until it became a jaw and a face and a pair of pointed ears.

_ Maybe _ she had just jumped to conclusions.

***

The child in front of Bruce was small, dressed in a striped shirt and slacks and with eyes wider than dinner plates.

They definitely didn’t seem like the accomplice type, but one could never be too sure in Gotham. They were definitely familiar, but he couldn’t tell why. Where had he seen them before? A hostage situation? A criminal’s house? He wasn’t sure.

“Why are you following me?” Bruce asked again, firmer.

That seemed to break the kid out of their stupor.

“Oh! Right right, one sec.” They kneeled down to unzip their backpack, rummaging around a bit before pulling out a few sheets of loose paper.

They cleared their throat before speaking again, glancing over the pages. “Uh, well to start my name’s Tim, Tim Drake, and I wanted to talk with you about something important!”

_ That _ was where he knew the kid from. “You’re Jack and Janet’s boy?” Bruce asked, more for formality's sake than anything.

“Uhh yeah, they’re my parents, though I’m not a boy. It changes around and stuff, it’s cool. Right now I’m…” Tim paused for a moment to think,  _ “almost _ a girl, I think. Kinda.” She shook her head. “Anyways, not my point right now. I, uh, brought my resumè.” She handed him the papers.

Bruce took them hesitantly, eyes widening as he skimmed down the list. 

“Um, so yeah, I wanna be the next Batgirl!” Tim said, smiling.

Bruce glanced up from the papers, raising a brow under the cowl. “You what?”

She smiled a little wider. “Well since Miss Batgirl is Oracle now, I just thought…”

“Thought what?”

She shrugged. “Well I don’t know. That I could be the  _ new _ Batgirl?”

“How… how old are you?” Bruce asked.

Tim puffed out her chest in pride. “I’m eight and a half, and I’ve even been training!”

Bruce sighed. Okay, he’d heard enough.  _ “No,” _ he said firmly, handing back the papers.

Tim looked confused for a moment, before her cheeks reddened in frustration. “Why not?! Why has everyone been saying that? I’d be a great Batgirl!”

“You’re  _ eight years old, _ Tim.” Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.

“And a half, Mr. Wayne!”

He froze. “How do you know my name?”

Tim let out an annoyed huff, like the answer was obvious. “Because I’m epic and smart and would make a great Batgirl!” She yelled, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Look,” she crouched down to grab her backpack again, stuffing the resumè back inside, “I even have a uniform!”

Bruce almost choked on his next breath. “Uniform!?”

“Yes!” Tim looked up to glare at him, nostrils flaring. After a moment she looked back down and took a deep breath. “Let me just… let me put it on. Wait here.” She scooped up her pack and disappeared into the alley.

Bruce sighed heavily. This was… very strange. He’d talked with Tim a few times in the past, albeit briefly, and he never would’ve pinned her as the type to… well… he’d never thought he’d be cornered by a child demanding to be Batgirl, but least of all by Timothy Drake.

There was a crunch of gravel and Bruce glanced up to see Tim stepping out from the alley. Oh… oh no. This was bad.

“Bam! What do you think?” She did a small twirl, showing off every inch of the outfit.

What did he think? What did he  _ think? _ Bruce thought he was screwed, that’s what. He liked to think he was a strong man, he really did, but if he had one weakness, it was kids. 

Maybe it was a side effect of being a parent himself but kids… got to him, made him let down his guard.  _ Especially _ cute kids. So being faced with a small child in a homemade Batgirl suit… No, this was not happening, he was not even remotely considering this. He was going to take Tim home and make sure she never tried to be a vigilante, make sure she never got hurt. He wouldn’t have another Jason.

Bruce sucked in a sharp breath, trying to quell the swirl of fondness that had come out of  _ nowhere. _

“Get in the Batmobile,” he said, and upon seeing Tim’s face light up added, “No, you can’t be Batgirl. You’re going home and explaining yourself.”

“Oh… okay.” Her face fell, and Bruce cursed himself for feeling so guilty.

Kids, why was it always kids? Dick, Barbara, Jason, he’d had the same experience with all of them. Their initial excitement and determination, the following pestering, the doe eyes,  and of course the eventual donning of a costume. Fuck.  _ Fuck. _ It was too soon. He’d just  _ met _ Tim, technically, and he was not going to, by any means, humor her.

Bruce let out a long sigh. “You can wear Batgirl’s cape on the ride back.”

He’d never had much of a fortitude for kids at  _ all. _

***

Bruce learned two things about Tim very quickly during their drive. The first was that she was smart, dedicated, and curious, and the second was that once she started talking about something she found interesting, it was hard to get her to stop. There was nothing necessarily wrong with that, in all fairness, Bruce had just never realized it was possible to say ‘no’ so many times in a row.

“Are you going to show me the Batcave?”

“No.”

“Was this the original cape?”

“No.”

“Then were you keeping it in the car as a backup? Or planning on giving it to someone else?”

“No.”

“Do you really think I can’t be Batgirl?

“N--we are not continuing that conversation.” Bruce said, catching himself. It was the third time she’d tried to bring it up.

He glanced over to see Tim smirking, one of Barbara’s older capes clipped loosely around her shoulders. “You almost said no,” she teased, “that means you think I  _ can _ be Batgirl.”

_ “No _ it does  _ not.” _ Bruce said tersely, and he was definitely not smiling, not at all. Focus. He had to focus. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Timothy, but this job is dangerous, and you are far too young and inexperienced to be turning to vigilantism.”

Tim huffed. “Yeah yeah, I’ll get hurt, I’m not prepared, whatever. I bet you didn’t say that when Mr. Nightwing was starting out,  _ around my age, _ I might add.”

Bruce’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. She had him there. “I said we aren’t having this conversation.”

She sighed, long and dramatic. “Okaaay.” 

The car was quiet for all but a moment. 

“So what  _ do _ you want to talk about?” Tim asked.

Bruce sighed, but was saved the trouble of answering by a beep on the car’s monitor. A silent alarm had been triggered at a jewelry store a few blocks away. It was probably just a robbery, but it could be risky to step in with Tim there. He’d just have to be careful.

“Ooh! Are we going to stop a crime?” Tim asked, excitedly leaning over the console to get a good look at the screen.

_ “We _ are not going to do anything,” he said firmly, turning a sharp corner in the direction of the store.  _ “You _ are going to stay in the car until  _ I _ get back.”

“But I could help you! Be your backup and stuff if things get ugly.” Tim reasoned.

“It’s just a robbery.”

“Yeah, but it could be a robbery by Joker or Two Face or… or Darkseid! Yeah what if it’s Darkseid?”

Bruce huffed out a small laugh despite himself. “Alright, if it’s Darkseid you can come help.”

“Yess!”

They actually managed to settle into a comfortable (almost) silence after that (Tim kept softly mumbling street names), and it finally gave Bruce time to think.

He was… tired. He’d been in space for nearly a month and was having to adjust to life back in Gotham, and it was  _ exhausting. _ Not to mention he was dealing with his first real taste of intergalactic jet lag, which wasn’t fun by any means.

And now he had to deal with Tim. 

_ She _ wasn’t the problem, not exactly, it was the logistics that came along with her that were the real issue. 

First and foremost he had to find out how she'd stumbled upon their identities (or figured them out, though that seemed less likely), so he could take preventative measures against the same thing happening with anyone else. After that there was the matter of her apparent lack of supervision, and the fact that she was determined enough to be a vigilante that she had made an outfit and tailed him for hours.

It was a lot to consider, if he was being honest, but he would worry more about it later. Right now he had a robbery to stop, a kid to drop off, and a patrol to get back to. Simple, easy, straightforward. He didn’t want anything complicated right now, complicated could wait for tomorrow.

Unfortunately for Bruce, the robbery turned out to be anything but.

It should’ve been easy, four perps, none of them experienced, a run of the mill crime, he had stopped hundreds of those before, maybe thousands.  _ It should’ve been easy, _ but this was Gotham, and things were never that simple.

He’d gotten a frantic call from Barbara just after knocking out the thieves, talking about how the kid she’d been mentoring (Tim, of course it had been Tim), had gone missing. He'd been waiting for a respectful lull in the conversation to tell her that Tim was  _ with _ him, and as such hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings.

His mistake.

One thing had led to another, his comm had been smashed and he’d gotten a good few hits to the jaw, and before he knew it he had a gang enforcer’s forearm pressed against his throat. He was trying to pry it off now, choking and gasping as the pressure increased, but it was no use.

The woman smirked at his attempts, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You messed with the wrong operation Bats, say goodnight.”

Bruce’s lips moved soundlessly in a retort, probably an insult about how pedestrian a jewelry robbery was for Gotham, but all that came out was a gurgled rasp of air. He had to get out of this, but his head hurt and he couldn’t breathe and it was getting hard to see and--

The woman let out a strangled yell and Bruce gulped in a breath of air as the pressure was suddenly removed from his windpipe. He blinked hastily, trying to clear the spots from his vision. What had just— _ oh. _

Ironically, there were a pair of gloved hands keeping the woman in a chokehold, wrapped tight and sure around her throat. As she staggered back, trying to dislodge her attacker, Bruce saw a determined face peeking over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in concentration.

It was Tim.

The woman continued to struggle, eventually dropping to her knees, and after making one last attempt to pry off the arms wrapped around her throat, collapsed forward in a heap. Tim waited a few seconds to make sure the woman was out before easing back, and then just like that she was at Bruce’s side, mouth running a mile a minute.

“I found the door lock a bit after you left. Wanted to make sure it wasn’t Darkseid y’know?” She laughed. “Pretty proud of myself for that save actually, I didn’t really know what to do, but leverage worked! Gosh are you okay? You don’t look so good, do you want me to call an ambulance or something?”

“Tim.” Bruce said gruffly, trying and failing to push himself off the ground. His head felt like it was full of cotton, it was dizzying.

“No that probably wouldn’t be a good idea, you’re right. Do you want me to call Oracle? I can probably find a pay phone or something around here and we can get you all fixed up. You’ve got some blood on your face and suit and stuff, which isn’t great. I should know, I’ve got a mark on my arm where I screwed up a couple weeks ago, it was super painful.”

_ “Tim.”  _ He repeated, a little louder. He needed her to slow down for a moment. 

_ “But _ it was all for training! And looks like it paid off. I saved your butt and now you’ve seen how truly awesome I am. I bet you wanna reconsider the whole ‘no Batgirl’ thing now, huh? I know tonight has kind of been our first introduction and everything, at least more formally, but I’d say that was a pretty good try out, don’t y--”

_ “Tim!” _ Bruce growled, and she sucked in the rest of her sentence. He sighed, breathing heavily, and closed his eyes for a moment. “We… we really need to talk.”

***

Batman, Tim had decided, was weird. She’d known on some level that he  _ had _ to be, since he was both Bruce “Yacht Party” Wayne and Bat “Punched Criminals” Man, but it was still trippy to see up close.

He had a gruff voice and a big, scary, cape, but he also kept smiling at her (if you could call it that), and had gotten her McDonald’s after they’d tied up the jewel thieves and left them for the police. They were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile now, pulled over on a remote stretch of road leading up to Wayne Manor. 

Tim had eaten her food on the ride over and was folding her wrappers into fortune tellers while she waited for Batman to finish his. Some were turning out better than others, but the paper was mostly too crinkly to work well. That wasn’t stopping her though.

“What are those?” Batman asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Fortune tellers,” Tim replied, making the final crease on her current one and holding it up for him to see. “You choose numbers and flip through to get different messages.”

“Interesting.”

“I could tell your fortune if you wanted,” she offered.

Batman hummed in consideration, eating the last bite of his burger before setting his trash aside. “Sure.”

Tim smiled. “Okay, pick one of the numbers on the top.”

Batman shifted to face her more, the lenses of his mask narrowing as he leaned forward to look closer at the fortune teller. “There aren’t any—hmm. Nevermind. Two.”

Tim flipped through twice and showed the available flaps. “Okay now choose one of  _ these _ numbers.”

Batman was silent for a moment. “Eight,” he finally said.

“Okayyyy, now choose one more and I’ll tell you your fortune.” 

“That one.” He pointed to the flap nearest to Tim’s right thumb, though she didn’t know why he didn’t just say six. Not that it mattered. 

She flipped up the flap and scanned her eyes over the paper. “Hmmm, yes, I see.”

“What does it say?” Batman asked. Tim tilted the fortune teller so he could see. “Ah. Very interesting, but how about you  _ read _ it to me?”

“Sure!” Tim cleared her throat. “It says: ‘You will let Tim—sorry,  _ someone,  _ be Batgirl because she’s— _ they’re, _ really cool and awesome,’” she finished, flipping the flap back down with an earnest shake of her head. “Wonder what  _ that _ could mean.”

Batman chuckled,  _ chuckled, _ and leaned back. “That’s quite the fortune.”

“I know right?”

“And it’ll come true?” He asked.

Tim shrugged. “It’s a message from the universe, not much you can do to avoid that.”

Batman hummed, amused. “Very interesting indeed.” He slid off the hood, moving to lean against the guard rail at the edge of the road.

He stayed like that for a bit, just looking out over the small wooded area that stretched between them and the highway. Tim began fiddling with another wrapper.

“You did good back there,” Batman said after a moment.

She smiled to herself, creasing a corner. “You think?”

“I  _ think _ saving a life counts as ‘good,’ yes,” he turned to face her. “Were you scared?”

Tim scoffed. “Scared? Puh- _ leaze, _ that was nothing.”

“But it was your first real life combat experience, wasn’t it?”

“Well… yeah ok  _ technically, _ but I’ve been fighting beefy hedges in my backyard for awhile now, and let me tell you a secret,” she leaned forward and glanced side to side suspiciously, “the trees especially are more bark than bite.”

Batman huffed, something Tim could almost have considered a laugh, and nodded to himself. “You’re very resourceful,” he said finally, and she beamed. “Do you know why I brought you up here?” 

“To talk?” Tim posited, glancing down to fold an edge.

He nodded. “Yes, that, but also because this is where I came the night I first met Robin.”

“After he stole the wheels off the Batmobile?” Tim asked excitedly.

Batman gave her a smile, a regular person one this time. “Yes, after he stole the wheels off the Batmobile.”

“Awesome.”

He nodded, walking over to kneel in front of her. “It was, and he’s still very proud of that, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Tim could already see where this was going. She set down her wrapper, now halfway towards being a paper airplane, and looked him right in the eye. “You’re going to talk to me about what happened to him, in hopes that it will discourage me from being a hero.”

Batman shook his head. “Not to discourage you from being a hero, that’s something important for all of us to strive towards in our lives, but being a vigilante is different.” He took her hands in his, fingers squeezing lightly against the gloved knuckles. “It’s dangerous, Tim. I brought up Jason because he’s a perfect example of that. I didn’t want him to get hurt, but things still happened. I do not want you to have to deal with the same thing he did.”

“You don’t have to worry Batman, Batgirl’s awesome, she can handle anything,” Tim said, pulling back her hands to flex as proof.

Batman nodded. “I can see that.”

Tim struck another pose. “Of course you can, I look great in this outfit.”

“But I wasn’t talking about Batgirl, I was talking about you. Batgirl might be able to handle anything, but can Tim?”

She faltered in her flexing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean can you, and will you, be able to handle what we vigilantes have to do for out job. It’s a big responsibility.”

“Of course?” Tim gestured down to her costume, confused. “I’m not dumb, I knew what this was when I decided to do it. I’ve seen plenty of fights from you guys, read a bunch of public case reports, and I know I want to help people. This is how I can do that, at least for now. I mean, of course I’ll get a job in the future, and then I can help with money  _ and _ fighting, like you do. And then there’s my parent’s company and stuff and--”

Batman interrupted her with a laugh, low and loud. It continued on for a second or two and then faded off into a chuckle. “Alright, alright.”

“What?”

He took a deep breath. “From what you have said, and what you have shown, I am… open, Timothy, to the idea of training you to be the next Batgirl.”

Tim stared at him in disbelief. She hadn’t actually thought he’d say yes, after that first rejection. She’d only been laying the Batgirl stuff on thick because she’d thought she had nothing else to lose. Go figure. 

“Really?” She asked, a bit dumbstruck. Batman nodded. “Dang, I need to make up fortunes more often then,” she said, laughing a bit.

Batman chuckled. “The mustard stain had nothing to do with it. You have real potential, Tim, and a drive to match.”

She smiled wide, flashing her teeth, but it was immediately replaced with what she hoped was a very serious face. “So I’m really Batgirl now? For real? You aren’t pranking me?” She could feel the exhilaration building in her gut, but she had to double check.

Batman shook his head. “I’m not pranking you, but there will be training first, and you’ll have to stay out of big battles until you’re more experienced.”

“So?” Tim hopped to her feet, balanced precariously on the hood of the car. “Who cares? I’m still gonna be Batgirl, you still  _ said _ I’m gonna be Batgirl, so that means I finally did it!” She pumped a fist in the air in triumph. “I finally fucking  _ did it!!” _

“Language.”

“I’m going to be Batgiiirl, I’m going to be Batgiiirl!” She repeated, spinning in a small circle. “Oh wait.” She came to a sudden halt, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh. I’ve gotta tell Barbara and Jason. I’ve gotta tell them _ right now, _ c’mon!”

She hopped off the hood and grabbed Batman’s arm, tugging him towards the driver’s side. He made her double check that they’d picked up all their trash before they left, and she was practically  _ vibrating _ with anticipation the rest of the ride to the manor

They didn’t arrive in a garage though, to Tim’s surprise they pulled into the  _ Batcave. _ Batman ended up having to give her a small tour before they went upstairs, because she could  _ not _ stop asking questions. When they entered the kitchen she was introduced to Alfred, who complimented her outfit and made her the best cup of hot cocoa she’d ever tasted, and Tim decided right there and then that this? This was the best night of her life.

That sentiment held true through two very awkward phone calls for Batman (or Bruce, she guessed she could call him Bruce now), one to Barbara and the other to Jason (though she couldn’t tell which was which with all the yelling), and the frantic arrival of both of them. It held true through messy hugs and worried words and even tighter hugs when she told them the news.

It held true through five rounds of Mario Kart with Jason and into the next morning when she woke up next to him on the couch. It held true through a week of training and serious conversations and her introduction to Dick Grayson (who turned out to be every bit the person he’d been built up to be). It held true through the next year and a half, through her ninth and tenth birthdays and discovering the word genderfluid, through sixty-two movie nights (she’d been keeping track) and a buttload of brand new bruises and scrapes she couldn’t even begin to count. 

Some days had come close, but nothing had beaten that first night at the manor, the night she had gotten her legacy.

Nothing, until now. 

Tim stepped out from the dressing room twisting and turning to see every inch of her new outfit. It was a lot sleeker than her first one, still sporting the classic purple and yellow but now with a black stripe up each leg to match her cowl. She  _ loved _ it.

She glanced up at the waiting crowd, doing a small twirl to show the full thing off. It was quiet for a moment, and then there was a sharp intake of breath.

“Oh Timmy you look  _ fantastic.” _ Dick said, rushing forward to scoop her up into a hug.

He spun her around a bit and she laughed, swatting at his chest. “I know, I know, let me down you big dork.”

Dick obliged, stepping back with a dramatically offended scoff. “Me? A dork? How dare you say such a thing.” He grabbed an approaching Jason and roped him into a headlock, ignoring his cries of protest to noogy him. “You’ve been hanging out too much with this one, haven’t you.”

“Agh! Jesus, fuck  _ off, _ Dick,” Jason said, laughing as he ducked easily out of the headlock.

“L—”

“Language, yeah I know B, you can fuck off too.”

“Master  _ Jason!” _

He winced. “Oops, sorry Al.”

“Oh honestly.” Barbara rolled forward, pushing between the two of them, and took Tim by the shoulders. Her hands rubbed lightly over the fabric, her eyes drifting over the costume before settling on Tim’s face.

“You look lovely,” she said.

Tim fiddled with the edge of her cape. “You think?”

Barbara smiled, pulling her into a hug. “You look lovely in everything, Tim.” Tim hugged back, burying her face in Barbara’s shoulder. “Good luck out there tonight,” Barbara whispered.

“Thanks.” Tim gave her one last squeeze before stepping back. 

“Are you ready?” Bruce asked, wearing one of those rare, real, smiles.

“I think… I think so,” Tim said. He nodded, turning with a swish of his cape towards the Batmobile.

“Hell yeah! Batgirl is back tonight baby!” Jason cheered, following behind Bruce. Tim flashed Barbara one last smile before running after them.

“Ready to officially be less cool than me?” She asked, elbowing Jason lightly as she caught up with him.

He returned the gesture. “In your dreams!”

“Kids! Car!” Bruce called.

“Coming!” Tim replied.

“Y’know you legally won't be able to call me that in a couple days, right Old Man?” Jason asked, walking around to the passenger’s side.

“Of course I will,” Bruce said, scooting his seat forward so Tim could get in the backseat, “you’re still going to be  _ my _ kid.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Not if Timbo adopts me, then I’ll be a Drake.”

“Except I can’t  _ do _ that, so you’re still stuck with B.” Tim said teasingly, leaning forward to look over the back of Jason’s seat.

He turned to look at her in mock disgust. “But I had the adoption papers all ready! How could you betray me like that Timberly, I trusted you.”

“Alright, alright, settle down and get your seatbelts on, we have a patrol to get to.” Bruce said, revving the engine.

Tim smiled and settled back in her seat. “We sure do,” she said.

The car pulled out of the cave with a squeal of rubber, and the best night of Tim’s life began.

***

The report was on the news that morning. After the weather, and something about the opening of a new Wayne resort, the anchor moved on to a breaking news segment. 

A single headline scrolled by on the bottom of the screen, bold and bright for everyone to see.

_ Batgirl Returns _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go!  
> Thank each and everyone of you for sticking with this and reading along, the responses have been so wonderful it’s honestly more than I expected. I’ll be linking a few more fanart pieces in the notes here, so as always make sure to go give those ppl a lot of love. Have a wonderful day!
> 
> ———
> 
> [@aloofwindbag](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [already linked in a prev chapter but the OG Batgirl Tim comic and where the dialogue for Bruce and Tim’s first meeting came from](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/188547615857/what-if-tim-wanted-to-be-batgirl-the-way-cooler)
> 
> [Batgirl Tim and Robin Steph](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/622029687804346368/batgirl-tim-and-robin-steph0)
> 
> [A conversation from later down the line](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/622301583799123968/dick-and-jason-are-waiting-outside-with-their-ears)
> 
> [Offended bb](https://aloofwindbag.tumblr.com/post/623932095091392512/you-dont-know-anything-about-me)
> 
> [@sketchingtons](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Robin Steph and Batgirl Tim being nerds doodle dump](https://sketchingtons.tumblr.com/post/623015408234037248/back-at-it-again-with-the-batgirltim-au-this)
> 
> [@kiwistrashcache](https://kiwistrashcache.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Fabulous cape Timmy!](https://kiwistrashcache.tumblr.com/post/623949283845144576/aloofwindbag-s-batgirltim-is-a-big-ol-fav)


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